No one could say who first snapped the taut thread of restraint. Candlelight flickered as their bodies tangled together, as if each desperately sought to melt into the other. They tore at one another’s clothes with urgent hands, hungrily claiming skin and heat, drawing warmth from each other.
Clothes fell away. Dark hair spilled free. Two equally bare bodies intertwined—one pale, one honey-gold—both washed in a thin flush of crimson by the candle flames, intimate and provocative. Hot, damp breath; low, ragged moans that rose at times into sharp, trembling cries and sank at others into deep, strained rasps. The heat of passion left them aching yet unwilling to pull apart. Fine beads of sweat coated lean, powerful frames like a sheer film of oil, gleaming with temptation.
A large hand roamed freely over the tight, fair body, kneading the supple line of the waist, sliding suggestively three inches below the navel. The skin seemed almost alive, clinging to the fingers and refusing to let them go.
“Nn… ah…”
Head thrown back, eyes half-lidded, swollen lips parted. Heated breaths misted the air. An expression of dazed abandon—shame mixed with complete surrender. The body stretched open, chasing instinct, seeking not gentle tenderness but a fierce, almost savage sting that made every pore tremble. Brows knit; pain and pleasure braided together. Each rising gasp, soft with embarrassment yet lush with seduction, further unraveled Feng Xuanyi’s already scorched reason.
One arm locked around the waist and lifted, hauling the entire body upward. Ning Xuan cooperated at once, parting his thighs to straddle Feng Xuanyi’s powerful hips. The jade-hard length already standing proud before him trembled with the movement, lifting its head, ready. The thick, heated tip traced two rough circles around the entrance. That tightly watched opening pulsed and fluttered as if unaware of the danger—like a thirsty flower waiting to be thoroughly soaked and soothed by spring rain.
Sensing what was coming, Ning Xuan arched upward in open invitation, yielding, waiting. Suddenly the arm around his waist clamped hard. The honey-toned hips thrust sharply. The scorching, swollen length forced open the shy, delicate entrance and drove in to the hilt with a low growl, straight to the core.
“Ah—!”
The pale, lean body bowed violently, drawing a long, elegant curve. Even prepared, the shocking size and heat were almost too much. An unrestrained scream tore free—pain and pleasure tangled. Dull agony shredded the nerves, leaving them numb yet shuddering. Only at the very end did the cry lift in a faint, teasing hook. The entrance stretched to its limit; every fold was pulled smooth.
A long breath escaped. Hot sweat slid from a temple and dropped onto Ning Xuan’s abdomen, giving him the fleeting illusion of being scalded. A catlike whimper rose; uncontrollable tremors raced through him. The impact and stretch of pleasure curled his toes. Feng Xuanyi remained buried deep, fighting the urge to finish, feeling the tight, hot passage work like a greedy infant’s mouth—clenching, sucking, pulsing around him. The bone-melting pleasure nearly undid his control.
In something close to frustration he seized a fistful of Ning Xuan’s long hair and hauled him upright, claiming the tempting mouth. Tongues tangled and chased while his hips began to move in earnest, riding hard.
“Mm… nn… nn-mm…” The sharp sting at the scalp only sharpened the near-brutal pleasure. Breathless gasps shattered under each powerful thrust, trapped inside the mouth of the one causing them. Unswallowed saliva slipped from the corner of lips in a glistening, obscene trail. The body shook beyond control; every pore thrilled to the rhythm of being taken.
Powerful hips, thick and strong, buried the full length again and again, forcing open the soft, layered walls, grinding once, then withdrawing cleanly. No matter how the passage tried to hold him, every entry carried relentless force, as if he meant to drive even the heavy sac beneath into that soul-stealing depths and feel its hungry welcome.
Honey-gold lower abdomen slapped against firm, elastic buttocks. The wet slap of flesh on flesh was shameless. He varied the angle yet struck the same fragile, sensitive spot with ruthless precision every time.
“Nn-ah! … Don’t! … Mm… too… too hard… ahh…”
Dignity and reason fled. The intense pounding of that vulnerable place sent pleasure crashing over him in drowning waves. Eyes rimmed red with passion, cheeks flushed as if they might bleed. He shook his head mindlessly, dark hair flying wild, as though the intensity were too much—yet his arms tightened around Feng Xuanyi’s neck.
“Don’t?” A sudden, fierce upward thrust stole Ning Xuan’s breath and set his body bouncing. “You mean not enough.”
One hand supported Ning Xuan’s waist, taking his weight. The other, as if magnetized to the skin, slid down the elegant curve of the spine and roughly fingered the stretched entrance. A brow arched; the look was wicked and arrogant.
“Nn…” A strained pant. The opening that had seemed full beyond capacity miraculously accepted the sudden finger, instinctively tightening and drawing it deeper.
With the finger inside, the once-proud length stilled—yet its heat never lessened. Desire only seemed to swell. Ning Xuan could feel the pulse of the thickness stretching him, throbbing, growing thicker and harder by the second.
The passage, already drunk on thorough possession, craved more of that wild invasion. Faced with the sudden stillness it grew restless; a rising, maddening itch of emptiness took hold.
He twisted his hips, actively working the unmoving length, tightening his thighs in silent invitation for more. The jade shaft in front rubbed against the honey-toned abdomen, painting a bright, slick trail.
“You little demon. Don’t cry for mercy later.” The dark, magnetic voice dropped deliberately low—like a devil standing at the gates of hell, tempting an angel down. Hot breath brushed the sensitive ear.
Certain Ning Xuan’s legs locked around his waist would keep him from falling, Feng Xuanyi freed both hands, seized the two fair, firm cheeks, and dug in hard enough to leave ten pink fingerprints. He yanked Ning Xuan down onto himself while thrusting up, using gravity to drive the already buried length even deeper.
For a moment Ning Xuan forgot how to breathe. Suffocating pleasure blackened the edges of his vision. He tried to hold on to something and found nothing. Rounded nails scored ten dark-red lines down the sweat-slick back.